Worth It
by everyone-needs-someone
Summary: Quinn is struggling to deal with all these feelings for Rachel. Of course, who should come to the rescue only one Ms. Santana Lopez. Reviews would be cool. Rated M just to be safe.


"God, could this day get any worse?" I think bitterly as my locker refuses to open. Never before in all my time at this frickin school has my locker jammed, but obviously, today has not been awful enough. Firstly, my alarm didn't go off, causing me to scramble out of my house in whatever clothes I found first. Then, when I eventually sprinted to my first class, Mr. Schneider decided that assigning us a two thousand word essay would be a swell idea, because it's not nlike we have a ton of homework from other classes to get done, and then to top off this shitty day, once again, all I can think about if _her._

Rachel Berry. Resident diva, Broadway-bound, and easily one of the most stubborn, annoying, kind-hearted people I have ever met. Sure, it took me a while to see the past the irritating rants and never ending ramblings, but when I did, there was no denying that Rachel had a heart of gold. She always, no matter what, took care of Glee club, and when someone dubbed her a friend, she was loyal to them no matter what. But one of the things I admire most about her is her unwavering courage. She never lets what people say get her down, she is her own person no matter what. It's an admirable quality, one that I envy. But ever since everything with the baby, I've been much less sensitive to what people say. Probably something I picked up from Rachel.

God, I wish I could stop thinking about her. Ever since we became sort-of-friends, all I can think about is how amazing she is. How kind she was to me when everyone else in the school turned their backs on me because I was pregnant. How even when I called her those awful names, like Treasure Trail, and Manhands, she still shot me a small smile and never retaliated. And thinking those things, while a little odd for just sort-of-friends, were acceptable, but they weren't the thoughts that were bothering me.

No, what was bothering me was that I had recently realised that Rachel Berry is _hot_. And the thoughts I were having were more suited to a horny, adolescent boy, no a heterosexual, Christian girl.

When I realised it, I couldn't comprehend how I hadn't noticed it before. Her long tans legs that she displayed gorgeously in those tiny plaid skirts, that would look amazing wrapped around me. Her chocolate eyes that were oh so expressive. I had wondered from time to time how those eyes would look as she came, almost black with lust. Christ, even the way she sings is arousing, her passion evident in every note. Everything about her made me want to throw her against a wall and fuck her till she screamed my name.

It was around the time when I started having these thoughts that I realised I may not have been as straight as I thought.

The only person I had talked to about this was Santana. I figured she could give me a little insight on the whole "oh-crap-I'm-gay-and-wanna-get-on-that-girl-I- like-really-badly" situation.

"Holy shit, Q, _Berry?! _You're telling me that you're realising you might be gay for Rachel fucking Berry?!" Santana exclaimed, the amusement evident in her eyes.

"Christ, S, keep your fucking voice down. And yeah, Berry. Trust me I know how fucked up this is," I say through gritted teeth fully aware of the other students in the crowded cafeteria, many of whom would be all too eager to get the 411 on the new lesbian scandal.

"You know, when you think about it, it makes sense. I mean, all the crap you gave her, the names, the slushies, keeping her away from Finnocence. You're just the school yard bully who's pulling on his crushes' pigtails," the Latina remarks, her smirk exhibiting her amusement at the situation.

"Yes, yes, its all unbelievably amusing. In fact, that's why I wanted to talk to you, so we could have a good laugh about. I wasn't looking for any form of help or advice at all," I say bitterly, my frustration at the situation causing me to snap much more than I intended.

"Chill it, Les-a-tron, I'm sorry. But I honestly don't know how I'm gonna be of any help," Santana says with the first hint of sincerity she's had all day.

"Just tell me what to do. What happened when you realised you wanted to….you know…._do stuff_ with Brittany?" I ask, a blush creeping up my skin at the topic of conversation.

"Honestly, I always wanted to gets my mack on with Britts. I had just been denying it for so long. When I realised that I was in love with her, we just kind of ended up together. There's no instruction manual for realising you're gay and are in love with your best friend, you just have to go for it," the tanned girl advises, with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

Easy for her to be so casual about it, you later thought in your bed, she already has her girl. For you, a myriad of unhappy endings could be in store if you come out about your feelings for Rachel. She could laugh and tell everyone about how Quinn Fabray has a big ole lesbian crush on her, dooming me to living the life of a social outcast. She could tell me that unfortunately, she is extremely straight, and then I would have to watch stupid boys get their stupid chance to stupid date her. Or even worse, she would tell me that even if she was gay, she simply could not forgive me for my past transgressions against her and feel that she deserves a better relationship for herself.

She wouldn't be wrong.

Ultimately, I decided that no good would come of Rachel knowing how I felt. I convinced myself that that would be the end of things, and I would never allow one more thought of Rachel Barbra Berry enter my mind, and nothing on this earth would make me reveal my true feelings, nothing at all. In fact, it was better that I distance myself, just to be safe.

Fucking Santana Lopez.

If ever there was anyone that knows me inside and out, it's my childhood friend. And usually, I enjoyed how much she knows me. She knows that I like to eat cookie dough when I'm sad. She knows that I have a phobia of thunder storms. She knows that sometimes I still cry over how my dad left me and my mom. And I love that she knows those things about me.

But she also knows how to press my buttons. And she is using it to her advantage.

I had stuck to my promise of leaving Rachel alone, and attempting to forget these stupid feelings. I was doing pretty good as well. But according to Santana, I wasn't handling it very well.

"Being away from your hobbit is making you mopey. And you know what? No me gusta, chica. You best get your game face on and tell her that you want her Berry Cherry," the Latina cheerleader stated.

"I told you I decided it was a bad idea. I'm not gonna make a fool out of myself just to have her turn me down," I replied glumly, playing with my lunch of macaroni and cheese.

"How do you know she's gonna turn you down? I've seen you two looking at each other, you can practically smell the fucking gay."

I ignore her, continuing to push my cold lunch around my plate, letting out a deep sigh.

"Ugh, that is it, Fabray! I am making you tell RuPaul that you wanna get on her one way or another, because this angsty, mopey, depressing Quinn? She doesn't work for me," the fiery girl promises before she grabs Brittany and leaves the cafeteria.

I should've know she wouldn't just let it go.

It's afterschool glee. Everyone's sitting around the room, chattering in small groups. From across the room, Rachel shoots me a shy, tentative smile. _Fuck, why is she so perfect? _I muster all my strength to look away without responding. From the corner of my eye, I see her face drop, and I feel like the worst fucking person in the world.

Before I have long to dwell on the crappiness of my being, Mr. Schue enters the room. Just as he gathers us in, Santana comes up to me and whispers in my ear. "Remember Q, I know you better than anyone. And I know what a temper you've got on you." I look at her with a confused look on my face, before focusing on what Mr. Schue is saying.

"Okay, we've got a lot of work to do before nationals, but before we get down to that, I believe Finn has something he wants to perform for us?" Mr. Schue asks the gigantic boy in question.

"Thanks Mr. Schue. So, I've been thinking about a lot lately. And I'm going to do something today that without the encouragement of Santana, I wouldn't have had the stones to do." Finn grins goofily at the girl in question, then slowly turns his gaze to Rachel.

No.

This is not happening.

No way.

"Rachel, I know we've been through a lot. And I know I've done some pretty stupid things. But I was hoping that maybe this song could show you how sorry I am, and how much you mean to me."

I turn and give Santana the most furious glare that has ever been settled on my face. Fury explodes in my chest like a hot air balloon as the oafish boy begins to serenade Rachel. I don't even hear the song, I just see red as he attempts to win back the trust of the girl he has fucked over more times than I can count.

I glance over at Rachel, and I see her watching Finn perform. I can't tell what she's feeling, her face is extremely neutral. I am shaking with anger at the unfairness of it all. How dare he get the chance to be with her again, when he has had more opportunities to make her happy than anyone else would ever need. How dare he try and be with her for the umpteenth time, when I haven't even had one, lone chance to make her ten times happier than he ever did.

And suddenly it hits me. I have to tell Rachel. Not just because Finn is trying yet again to win her over, but because if Finn doesn't succeed, it'll be another boy. Then another. Then another. And none of them, not one, will make her anywhere near as happy as I know I can make her. Because you cannot love someone as much as I love her and not spend every day doing everything humanly possible to make them happy.

I'm not even thinking when I stand up. I just do. All the eyes in the room turn to me, and the band even stops playing whatever corny love song Finn was singing.

It's now or never, Fabray.

"Rachel, I was wondering if I could talk to you outside for a moment?" I ask, hoping to god she'll give me the time of day after I've ignored her all week.

Rachel smiles at you, eyes expressive as ever.

"Of course Quinn."

We both exit the room, ignoring the Glee clubs curious stares, Santana's smug smirk and Finn's irritated scowl. We walk down the hallway, away from the glee room, the silence thick. We stop outside my locker. There are a few moments of tense silence. Of course Rachel would be the one to break the silence.

"So was there something you needed to discuss with me, Quinn?" she asked, her coffee coloured orbs meeting my stare.

"Emm…yes there was. Uh….." I stumble over my words, internally smacking myself for being such a loser.

She waits, patient as ever, her gaze never leaving mine. I lose my train of thought, absorbing her beauty. I don't think when I blurt it out.

"You can't get back with Finn."

She was clearly not expecting that t be the subject of your conversation.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I had not intentions of resuming my relationship with Finn."

"Oh."  
>I feel the blush rushing up my cheeks, my intrusion was clearly not needed.<p>

"However, I am curious as to why _you_ think I shouldn't het back with Finn." 

She's looking at me so expectantly, her doe eyes so large and bright in her head. I take a deep breath, and muster up all the courage I have ever had in my life.

"Because he won't make you happy. You might think he will, and for the first few months, yeah, you might be happy, but ultimately guys like Finn only care about themselves. It'll go back to the way it was before, when he puts popularity above you, and you end up getting left behind. And you deserve a lot fucking better than that. You deserve someone that's gonna trip over their words trying to tell you how beautiful you are because there are too many words coming to their brain. You deserve someone who wakes up every day realising how amazing they have it because they get to spend it knowing that you're theirs. And above all, Rachel Berry, you deserve someone who won't let you settle for second best."

My face is flaming and my chest is heaving at the weight of my confession, and I take in her stunned, awe-struck expression. Fuck, she is so beautiful.

"Quinn…" she breathes out, "That was… the nicest, most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Yeah well, I just think you should be smarter than to go back to someone who doesn't even appreciate how amazing and beau-"

My words are cut off by a soft pair of lips crushing my own with a bruising kiss. Before I can even take in the fact that Rachel Berry is kissing me, her hands are behind my neck, crushing me to her form. As soon as my brain catches up, I grab her waist and assist her in gluing our bodies together.

Rachel's lips taste like vanilla, and something else distinctly Rachel. Before I can analyse it, her tongue is swiping at my bottom lip, begging for entrance, which I happily grant. As soon as our tongues make contact we both let out a throaty moan, the sensation overwhelming me completely. As our tongues battle each other passionately, my hands slide lower, cupping her toned ass through her tiny plaid skirt. _Holy fuck, the things I want to do to this girl!_ Before we can get too carried away though, our moment is broken by the smug shout of one Ms. Santana Lopez.

"Yo, Q, now that you're getting some, does that mean you're not gonna be moping around my house and whining about how Berry is so hot that you wanna do unspeakable things to her ?"

Still gripping Rachel's waist, I reply to the Latina.

"Santana, if you want to live to see your twenties, I suggest you turn around and go drag Brittany into a locker room somewhere and leave us alone," the reply is practically a growl, and I hear Rachel's breath hitch with arousal, and my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head because _of course _she's into growling.

"Trust me, Fabray, I'm gonna do exactly that. I just wanna let you know that the Big Friendly Giant is pissed," Santana informs the girls before turning and strutting away.

"We should probably go back," Rachel says quietly, almost as if she doesn't want to shatter the moment.

"Yeah I guess. What are you gonna tell him? Finn, I mean?" I ask, wary of her answer.

"well, I don't want to hurt his feeling , so I'll tell him that while I am flattered, I am afraid that my affections are otherwise occupied" the diva murmurs shyly, glancing up at me, and oh my god could she be any fucking cuter.

"I think that's a good answer," I reply, bashfully reaching down and entwining our fingers, happy at the girls eager reciprocation of the motion. WE walk slowly back to the choir room, treasuring the presence of each other.

"Oh shit," I say, a thought occurring to me.

"What?" Rachel says, worry in her voice.

"Nothing. IT's just Santana's gonna be gloating about this for a million years," you groan in frustration.

The girl beside you laughs at your annoyance , and it's such a beautiful sight that you can't help but stare.

You decide then and there that the gloating from Santana is worth it.

She's worth it.


End file.
